


Songs of Time

by nutella22



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Post-Star Trek: Into Darkness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-01-27 06:14:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12575512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nutella22/pseuds/nutella22
Summary: There's a lonely facility on a lonely planet and no trace of the residing scientists. When Jim and his crew investigate they don't find what they're looking for yet more than they bargained for. Jim/Spock/Bones Friendship. No more and no less. Adventure and Angst.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Timeline: A few months after Into Darkness  
> A/N: Haven't got a beta yet. Volunteers? Could use some cheerleading as well as constructive criticism. English is not my first language and this is my first attempt in this Fandom.  
> Disclaimer: The characters aren't mine. I just borrow and intend to give them back unharmed... mostly.

_Now I've heard there was a secret chord_  
That David played, and it pleased the Lord  
But you don't really care for music, do you?  
It goes like this, the fourth, the fifth  
The minor falls, the major lifts  
The baffled king composing Hallelujah

_Hallelujah – Leonard Cohen_

 

**Prolog**

Private Log, James T. Kirk. Stardate 2259.79

'When I was a kid my mom used to tell me my father knew exactly what he was doing when he stayed on board of that ship. That he did it for us. That he just wanted to do the _right_ thing by saving the lives of people he cared for. But he couldn't fool me. He took the easy way out. A selfish way. Not thinking about the consequences for those who had to live with them.

Now look at me. I have made the same decision. The only difference is that I've lived to see the consequences.'

 

_Interlude I_

_Planet H-3030, Facility of unknown Purpose_

_The building stood its guard, lonely and obstinate. It refused to bend, not yet. The signs of life inside not yet completely gone. There were still traces of personal belongings on the tables and in the dressers. Clothes and books, pencils and dishes. Some properly tucked away in night tables and dressers, some having fallen and scattered on the floor. Monitors beeping with an endless stream of incoming data with no one left for interpretation. Needles constantly spiking into dangerous territory and then calming down._

_A piercing, screeching sound echoed through the empty hallways, bouncing of the walls like a restless sentinel searching for fearful souls hiding from the inevitable. It combed through every corner, every fissure in the wall, wiggled its way through gaps and holes and when it left the bricks and stones holding the building together it was carried off into the loneliness of the vast planet. The wind took the sound away, scattered the remains into the emptiness and left nothing behind but a hull of metal and stone. An abandoned building on an abandoned planet. A grave on a grave._

_Another sound rolled over the area, deeper and louder. More like a rumbling. Like the planet was gritting its teeth._

_And yet another sound, coming from inside the building again. A scream of defiance formed by vocal chords that expressed alarm and shock and disbelief. But the source of the sound seemed not within physical reach. It came from the air itself. Air that was cackling and shifting and moving like waves in a quiet lake in which an invisible stone had been tossed._

_Then the rumbling stopped and the sound died away while the planet kept turning and turning and its core kept pulsing in tune with the angry red lights in the main labs control station. The beeping the only evidence of the failed experiment that had apparently cost the lives of seven souls._

/ _Interlude_ /

 

 

 

**Chapter 1**

Stardate 2262.11

"Whoever told me as a kid that monsters don't exist… now I can prove them wrong," McCoy murmured and made a grunting sound as Jim nudged him with his elbow into his side to shut him up. Sharply. McCoy quickly looked up, smiled widely and waved his hand almost comically at the leaving group of alien creatures.

Planet M-0991, to the inhabitants known as Snov'rek, was the home of the Kaestrians, a species that couldn't have been less like humans. Their skeletal features – respectively two long arms and legs with no less than three joints on every limb – looked terrifying. Their heads were long and reminded Jim of starving horses whereas their wide mouths with rows and rows of long teeth showed alarming similarity with the long gone Terran species of sharks. They had started negotiations about trading relationships a week ago and Jim wished for nothing more than to finish this mission, get back on his ship and leave this hellish planet and its visually off-putting residents. Admittedly, contrary to their looks the Kaestrians were one hell of a pompous race, who valued correctness, courtesy and the right choice of words. _Ugly Vulcans_ , as McCoy had captioned. Appropriately so, Jim had to admit.

Now, after many hours of talking and walking on eggshells the first steps had been done to initiate diplomatic relationship, which meant for Jim and his Crew that their work was done.

They had said their goodbyes, had bowed and repeated the flowery phrases that were expected until their mouths dried out and their backs ached and had watched the three representatives get up and leave. Their movements were erratic and disturbing to watch. Their long arms were being used to stabilize their crooked torsos, which made them look even more appalling.

"For your own good, I hope their hearing isn't as advanced as their manners," Jim murmured under his breath as one of them turned around to look at them from the distance, eyeing them for a moment before bowing one last time, their gangly arms punting into the soft ground at the attempt to balance their heavy heads, making them look like a genetically failed experiment to create a mixture of spiders and white sharks.

"It seems, that is the case, Captain," Spock announced and Jim let out his breath that he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "It also seems our efforts have been successful and might yield satisfying result for medium-term contracts the federation will benefit from."

"Benefits from what exactly? More fuel for nightmares?" McCoy huffed.

"I do not understand."

Jim didn't need to look at his Second in Command to see the raised eyebrow and tried to ignore the irritating talk of the two men who were now following him out of the building in the opposite directions of their hosts. It really was time to leave… and sleep with the lights on for the next few nights.

"These Kaestrians are creeping me out."

"Creeping you out?" Spock asked in a questioning tone.

"Yes, creepy. As in appalling, horrific, fright inducing, making my skin crawl and my limbs go numb. You know: creepy."

"I do not understand how the appearance of another life form can cause this kind of physical reaction other than hormonally conditioned reactions to the other sex that lead to the increase of blood supply in specific areas of the human organism."

"Did you just describe a boner, Spock?" McCoy asked, half incredulous, half disgusted, and Jim almost ripped his diagraphm trying not to burst in laughter. He was too tired for this kind of conversation. "Nevermind," McCoy added hastily as Spock was about to reply.

Jim finally stepped out of the building. Immediately his gaze wandered into the brown-ish dirty sky where he knew the Enterprise was awaiting them. He reached for his communicator. "Jim to Enterprise. Do you read?"

"Keptin," A friendly voice greeted him. "Checkov speaking. Can ve beam you on board, Sir?"

"Positiv. Three persons to the Enterprise."

A second later he blinked to adjust his eyes to the clean and bright interior of the transporter room.

"It's the unknown, the unexplainable, Spock." McCoy went on. "It's about being unable to scientifically predict physical or behavioral reactions. Unfamiliarity."

"And disfigurement as the Kaestrians are neither unpredictable nor abnormal in their physical characteristics."

"Well, that is debatable." McCoy exclaimed. "But no. Yes. Maybe. It's hard to explain. It's some kind of …" McCoy paused, thinking hard about the next words. "…externally grounded emotional compromise."

"That does not make sense."

"Spock is right," Jim chimed in, having kept himself out of the discussion since he had no intention whatsoever to admit that he, too, was seriously distressed by their new allies. "That doesn't make sense, Bones."

"Fine, Jim. I give up." The doctor threw his hands in to the air defensively. "Your turn. I wanna hear you explain our emotionally challenged Vulcan the concept of the heebie-jeebies."

"It's… complicated," he began, trying really hard to find a way to get out of this.

" _Lieutenant Uhura to Captain Kirk."_

_Thank God._

With a shrug of his shoulder and an apologetic glance to McCoy – which the latter registered with a roll of his eyes – Jim opened his communicator, already steering into another direction.

"Uhura, I'm already on my way to the Bridge. What is it?"

Behind him, he could hear McCoy spluttering something about mandatory medical check-up, temporary quarantine and immunization shots being standard procedure after away missions and that _even "the goddamned Captain had no right to talk his way out of"._

" _Incoming message from Starfleet Command."_

"That's good… good!" Jim said, hoping not to sound too delighted. "As long as the next mission destination is warm and orbits at least two suns… Humanoid creatures preferred." Purposefully he strode to the next elevator accompanied by McCoys indignant call of "Jim!"

"Sorry, Bones. Sounds really urgent."

The lift doors closed with a _swooosh_ but not before he heard Spock ask one last question that obviously had him distracted for the last few minutes.

"Doctor McCoy, I would appreciate one last clarification. What exactly is the anatomical meaning of a boner?"

"Oh, for the love of…!"

Jim could only hope the lift doors were soundproof enough to keep his fits of laughter inside the cabin. Bones would be seriously pissed. He was an awful friend.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This part has been beta'd by the wonderful Person_with_a_cool_name . Remaining mistakes are all mine. Disclaimer see Chapter 1.

_If I stay it won't be long_  
_'Til I'm burning on the inside_  
If I go I can only hope  
That I make it to the other side

_If you want to get out alive  
Oh – Run for your life_

_Get out Alive – Three Days Grace_

Chapter Two

_Captain's Log_

_USS Enterprise 1701-A_

_Stardate 2262.18_

' _We are about to reach our destination. H-3030 is an uninhabited class H planet with a planetary remote station whose official intent is the monitoring of the planets unstable geography and distinct geological features which have been described as "outside normal parameters". After repeated inquiries at the Terran Headquarter about detailed information regarding the specific characteristics of the planets abnormalities have been unanswered we have no other choice but to expect the unexpected. A team of seven scientists of different origins have been stationed on the planet's research laboratory but have failed to send mission reports for 60 earth days now. Their fate is unclear. We will find out and offer our assistance in case of technical, medical or ecological difficulties... Piece of cake.'_

_Captain James Tiberius Kirk, Enterprise NC-1701 A._

_\---_

The screen in front of them was filled entirely with red barren ground, criss-crossed by impressive canyons, some deep enough that no valley was noticeable. Neither by instruments, nor by the naked eye. High mountain ranges were dominating the horizon, their sharp silhouettes drawing an unsettling picture into the fretful sky. Distant clouds that reached high into the outer stratosphere were constantly sending lightning down to the surface like knifes stabbing into helpless victims. From their viewpoint many miles above the surface the crew of the Enterprise looked down on a hostile and scarred world.

"So, Mister Sulu, did you by any chance take the wrong exit and now we've ended in Arizona?" Jim asked jovially.

"No, Captain." Sulu replied, not without forming his lips into an amused half-smile. "Class H planet. Significant seismic activities. The atmosphere is breathable but the surface is very unstable." Sulu made some modifications and took a few seconds to understand the incoming readings. "I'm not sure but if the readings are correct the planet's core is notable. It contains and abnormal mass of lead." Frowning, he pushed a few more buttons. "The core's size is statistically 300% larger than of comparable planets and… it seems to be shrinking." He looked up at the screen as if trying to see whether the change of size could already be seen on the surface. "And if the readings are correct its density is close to 1000times higher than expected which leads to an increased gravity on-planet by factor 1,8."

"Fascinating," Spock announced from his place next to the Captain and if Jim hadn't known better he could have sworn to hear a hint of disbelief in the Vulcan's statement.

"The readings are too erratic to allow a substantial scientific conclusion, though," Sulu added as if to defend the data. Some part of his console started beeping with an unhappy wail.

"Mister Sulu?" Jim inquired and leaned forwards in his chair.

"An earthquake, Captain," the helmsman replied. "I'd assume that's not unusual. I doubt this planet gets a lot of rest in between them. Not that anyone cares. No life forms detected. No water, not even a blade of grass."

"Arizona after all." With a slap of his hands against his thighs Jim stood up and walked closer to the front, coming to a halt between Sulu and Checkov. "So, why would anyone risk building a research center this size on such an unstable planet? I doubt it's for the 'rocks'."

"As I already informed you," Spock replied with just the hint of irritation. "The research center aims to collect data concerning geographical and geological anomalies."

"Yeah, sure. Collecting rocks," Jim restrained from rolling his eyes. "That's bullshit and we know it."

Spock didn't elaborate any further. Any more information would be more likely speculation on his part and if there was one thing Kirk knew about Spock then it was the fact that his 2IC did _not_ speculate.

"I…" began Sulu but stopped with a frown, his fingers flying over the console. He shook his head in mild annoyance. "The interferences are too severe to make a liable statement. I'm not sure we can trust the data. Every reading keeps spiking out of scale. Quantum scale, magnetic polarity, even controversial geological readings… either something is messing with our sensors or the whole planet…" Sulu paused and huffed, as if he was personally affronted by the lack of useful information. "… has the magnetic and electronic instability of one huge lightning storm."

"A lightning storm?" Jim asked, his interest now spiked with an underlying tone of confusion. He threw his First Officer a glance but nothing in the face of the Vulcan gave away what was going on in his head. "So, any signs that we're going to be sucked into a worm hole anytime soon?"

"I'm not sure, Sir." Well, that did not sound as reassuring as Kirk would have wished. "As far as the readings are comprehensible they do not coercively indicate a quantum singularity but the exceptional characteristics of the planet doesn't exactly allow reliable data."

"That's not good enough." Jim noted and paused, pondering on the puzzling nature of this new situation.

"So, did you find the research center yet?"

Sulu nodded. "Yes, Sir. About 800 miles ahead."

"Life signs?"

"None detectable, Sir."

"Which doesn't necessarily mean that there's no one down there."

Sulu turned in his chair to look at Jim. "Correct, Captain."

"Uhura? I know this is a long shot but give it a try."

The dark skinned Communication Officer turned towards her station, holding the small speaking device close to her mouth. "This is the Starship Enterprise. We're calling the research facility on planet H-3030. Is anyone reading?" A cacophony of static filled the bridge. A few seconds passed and everyone on the bridge held their breath expectantly. "This is the Starship Enterprise. Can you hear us?" She pushed a few buttons but the noise never changed. It held a strange vibrancy in it like someone alternately humming and moaning into the open connection and it made Jim's hair stand up from the naked skin of his forearm. It carried an almost ethereal tune that seemed to fill the whole bridge with an oppressing weight of dissonance and wrongness.

"Cut the connection!" he ordered, more forcefully than intended and managed to school his face into his usual mask of nonchalance. "Guess we will have to take a look. So pack your bags and bring some snacks, people. You…" he looked at his Second in Command."…are with me. Sulu, you have the bridge. Don't break it. I still need it."

Without missing a beat, Spock took his place next to the captain as they entered the lift.

"Am I right in assuming that there will be an away team including yourself to inspect the facility?"

"You are assuming correctly, Spock," Jim confirmed pointedly and turned around, facing the doors and stubbornly ignoring Spock's inquiring glance.

"The magnetic interferences do not allow to beam down onto the planet."

"The fact has come to my mind, Spock. What are you trying to tell me, Mr Oh-So-Subtle?" Of course did he know what Spock was trying to tell him but seriously, the Vulcan made things too easy for him.

"Considering the fact that we are unable to beam out of perilous situations that may be threatening the away team's well-being I have a valid objection concerning your presence in said team. It is hazardous and redundant."

"So? You want me to stay on board and miss all the fun?"

"I highly doubt the excursion aims to recreational leisure time."

"Of course not, Spock. Because that would be boring." Another grin and Jim patted the Vulcan on his shoulder. "Come on Spike, relax. It's gonna be okay. We're going to have a look around and come back to give a mission statement. That's it. What can possibly happen? It can't be worse than eight feet high spider monsters with shark heads."

"Do you wish to be informed of the probability of critical incidents in chronologic or alphabetic order, Captain?"

Jim raised his eyebrow, almost touching the hairline and gave his friend an appraising look. "Spock, was that an attempt at humor? I knew you were a quick learner. I'm so proud of you."

"Humor was not my intended mode of response. I have to emphasize the number of most probable complications and rely on your rationality. That should be sufficient to press my point."

"Point taken."

"You are willing to stay on board then, Captain?"

"Hell, no!" The elevator stopped and Jim walked out of cabin, if possible his steps even bouncier than before. He was striving with energy, with a need to do something other than talk and look at screens all the time.

"May I suggest that we request some security back-up and Doctor McCoy in case of situations that require medical assistance as we have no indication of what we are about to find on the planet."

Jim pondered the suggestion for a few seconds before answering. "Fine. You do that. I don't want to be the one to tell Bones that he has to take a shuttle for what's probably going to be a bumpy ride down to a planet that is as unstable as the Tuesday jello-o in the cafeteria."

Spock, luckily, was smart enough not to question the comment even though Jim could see an prying sparkle in the Vulcan's dark eyes.

"I will do that."

"Great! Meeting at shuttle bay in five minutes. I'll go get the sandwiches and a picnic blanket."

"I am unaware of the actual need of such supplements."

The only answer Jim offered was a wave of his hand, a loud snort and the unconfined view of his back .

 

_Interlude  
_

_Within the building - in one of the scientist's quarters - was a photograph. It was being held by a pretty frame – made by tiny children's hands and accentuated by pink and blue and yellow butterflies. It showed the faces of three people who only could have been mother, father and a child, smiling brightly into the camera, unaware of the fact that it would be the last picture of their little family. Unaware of the fact that their father would not come back from the next mission._

_It had been sitting there ever since Rupert had arrived at his temporary home six Terran months ago. He had unpacked his stuff, throwing his clothes into the drawers hurriedly and had paused when his fingers found the frame. Someone – probably his wife – had put it in there without his knowledge. He hadn't even thought of bringing something personal with him. But when he had held the item in his hands it brought the crushing feeling of loneliness into his heart and he had swallowed painfully, willing away the lump in his throat._

_Now, it sat there, untouched. A soft layer of dust had covered it but it was in good shape. Until another soft rumble shook the room and something danced across the room. It was barely visible, only recognizable by a slight shimmering of what looked like wafting air, like shimmering heat over a desert road. It moved forwards, zigzagging across the room like a fairy dancing in the dusk. It was being accompanied by a tiny sizzling sound, like a drop of water in a hot pan. With a whoosh it went through the frame, just like that, and vanished into nothingness._

_It left nothing behind but the crumbling remains of what had once been a heart-kept treasure. Soft shreds of yellowish, brittle paper littered the surface and would soon be swept away by the next powerful shake of the earth._

_/ Interlude /_

 

"Dammit it, Jim," cursed Bones and Jim had to suppress a mischievous grin at the sight of his friend's clinging to the safety belts, which were holding him in his place. "I'm a doctor, not a Ping-Pong ball." The knuckles of his hands turning white when the shuttle shook forcefully. "If I weren't so sure that at one point I'll have to save your sorry ass from some stupid stunt you're going to pull I would have stayed where I was. There's a good old case of the Ankaran Flu in sick bay that has to be cured in one very confused Ensign Lewis."

"I'm so sorry to rob you of your chance to cure Ensign Lewis. Isn't she the blonde one with that sweet crooked smile?"

"No. Ensign Lewis is male and overweight," replied Bones, frustrated.

"See," Jim piped up. "It's not like you're missing out on something… or someone."

There was a small chuckle from Lieutenant Forbes, a lanky young man in his early thirties, who obviously pulled the short straw when chosen for this mission. He was sitting straight up in the back of the shuttle and coughed into his fist when the doctor threw him a glance that should have frozen him on spot. Jim eyed him for a moment and tried to assess their crew extension. The man had light brown hair, too long to have it propped into a neat cut. Jim made a mental note to remind the young man of certain regulations on board of his ship, that prohibited the crew members to turn into hippies. A stubborn curl stood out on his forehead and reached almost to his eyes, which radiated the color of a deep blue mountain lake. His lips had a natural upwards drift giving him the impression of an everlasting smile. Their eyes met for a moment before Forbes let them sink in an almost submissive gesture and gave his best impression to be immensely interested in his toe-caps.

_Well, that will be fun._ Jim thought sardonically.

"That's not the point, Jim," Bones moaned and for a moment he looked like he was about to let his breakfast make an undesirable reappearance. "The point is…"

"…that this Vulcan here wants to have you near me in case I stub my toe down there," Jim interrupted, already preoccupied with the view in front of them.

"ETA two minutes," Spock, announced as he steered the shuttle through the angry atmosphere.

"Any life sign yet?"

"Still none detectable, Captain," the Vulcan replied, letting his fingers dance over the console. "Unfortunately the increased approximation to the research complex shows no significant alteration in the reliability of the incoming data."

"Okay, so we're flying blind?"

"I assure you my eyesight has no negative influence on my flying abilities. It ranges well within Vulcan physiological norm."

Behind him, Jim could hear Bones mumble something like "not seeing the woods for the trees" but his attention was still on the screen as they neared their final destination and he swallowed his reply to Spock's anew misunderstanding of human metaphors.

In front of them reached a wide, open area on top of an extensive plateau. Close to the edge sat a simple, multi-story, two-winged building with a seemingly random allocation of tiny windows.

What spiked their suspicion though was a large tube going directly through the building and forming a huge ring-shaped enhancement with a diameter of a few miles that took up almost the whole plateau.

"What _is_ that?" asked Bones, his nausea forgotten for the moment. "And how is it possible it's still intact?"

"The incoming data is…."

"Yeah, Spock, we know. The readings are useless. But there has to be an obvious reason for a huge round… thing in the middle of nowhere."

An especially strong jerk shook the shuttle and Bones quickly readjusted his seat-belts.

"It looks like a very simplistic version of a particle accelerator," Spock said after the shuttle movements had settled.

"A what?" Bones asked.

"A particle accelerator."

"Oh thanks, now it's all clear."

"Isn't that the thing that almost blew up half of Germany in the late 21st century?" Jim inquired, mildly confused.

"Switzerland if I recall correctly," Spock corrected and another violent jolt went through the shuttle. "Captain, the landing procedure is reaching a critical point. The planet's extraordinary characteristics in respect of increased gravity and instability will be influencing our inertia dampers. Strong turbulences are to be expected."

"What do you mean, "increased gravity"?" There was a slight hitch in the doctor's voice and Jim almost felt sorry for his best friend. On the other hand, it felt right to have him with him by his side. "I hate you, Jim. You know that, right?"

"Remind me to send a thank you note when we get back," The captain murmured, absentmindedly, and leaned forwards in his seat. With a sudden feeling of apprehension he watched as Spock steered the shuttle closer to the building. They were circling it once before trying to land. It took two attempts but all things considered it was as smooth as could be while he could feel his stomach make somersaults, in spite of the inertia dampers still protecting them from the unfamiliarity in the planets gravitational forces. But the moment they touched ground Jim could feel the changes around him. The shuttle's vibrations were replaced by an uncomfortable pressure that seemed to have its focus somewhere below his chest.

"I suppose you guys forgot to mention that "increased gravity" thing going on, right? I mean, it's not like I should have known that we're visiting a planet where our bodily awareness will be put under significant stress." Jim opened his mouth but was cut off by a very angry doctor. "No, Jim! Stubbing your toe does not imply that we're about to be faced with a situation that is both intrinsically and extrinsically risky." Jim closed his mouth again not wanting to express another lame excuse. The doctor kept mumbling angrily while they exited the shuttle, Lieutenant Forbes on the rear.

"I don't like it here," Bones complained just as an afterthought.

"Objection noted," Jim replied, considering his opportunity to tell his best friend how much of a baby he was acting like. He resisted the urge and instead turned to the building a hundred yards away. Spock was already trying to get some readings but the way the tricorder kept beeping and wailing in disdain Jim doubted they would get any helpful data.

"It appears the tricorder has problems processing the conflicting incoming data from the different sources of disruption," Spock promptly phrased and confirmed what Jim had already suspected.

"So, our technology is useless." Jim felt his stomach tighten once more and he was convinced it had nothing to do with the unfamiliar gravity. "Looks like we have to rely on our ears and eyes then." After one last glance at his companions he turned around and started walking towards the building's entrance.

The increased gravity felt like he was walking through muddy water and after only a few meters he was beginning to suspect a bad case of sore muscles once they were back on the Enterprise.

"Bones? What are the physical consequences of an increased gravity?"

"You're asking me now?" Bones snorted, but could see at his captain's stoic expression that now was not the time to whine about things he sure as hell could not change. "Mild nausea which should subside once we got accustomed to it. Could take a few hours. Weariness, fatigue and headaches are symptomatic. Also muscle pains, mild breathlessness. Not to forget a slowed metabolism and the heightened need to urinate."

Jim snorted. "Okay, so we're on a planet that is being screwed with bad enough that a tricorder is even unable to read a damned street sign. The living conditions are borderline for most known species and there's no Irish bar in the vicinity. So," He stopped walking for a second and squinted his eyes, letting his eyes wander over the hostile area. "What the hell were they doing here?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Dear reader. No, I'm not dead. Promise. Next chapter is here. Oh and merry Christmas. May Santa be with you. Amen, or whatever.
> 
> Beta'd by the wonderful person_with_a_cool_name. Remaining mistakes are mine, all mine. Feel free to complain away.
> 
> Usual Disclaimer. Not mine.

 

I think we're haunted  
That we're swimming through ghosts  
Yeah I think we're haunted  
That we're never alone  
I think we're haunted  
The woods are all taking it back  
We've overstayed our welcome  
It's time we were gone

Radical Face – Haunted

 

Chapter Three

_Private Log Dr. Leonard McCoy, Stardate …don't know, could be Tuesday._

' _He missed another check-up. Because he's Captain I've-died-and-what-next. If it weren't for the fact that he's my friend I'd have him suspended for ignorance of medical protocol and jeopardizing his health and ultimately my peace of mind. I mean, what the hell is so hard about me pointing a tricorder at him, pushing a few buttons and me telling him that he's fine to go? It's not like open heart surgery. But no, he acts like he's five and doesn't want to brush his teeth. He's not invincible. Unfortunately, dying and coming back didn't help getting that information delivered. He's missing the point here. There are consequences. If not physically, then mentally. There's always consequences._

_I swear the next time he gets himself killed I will bring him back to kill him myself.'_

 

The closer they got the more of a desolate timbre it leaked. The few existing windows were dark, black as pitch. Not like they weren't not illuminated but like they had every intention of locking every trace of light out. The surface of the walls was dusty and cracked. Next to the door there was no company name, no reference to an institutional corporation in charge, only a plain symbol – a white circle with a red border – printed on the center of the door which didn't exactly make them feel welcome while the wind was obnoxiously tearing at their hair and clothes increasing their efforts of staying upright and walking in a quick pace. After one last glance backwards Jim opened the door and took a glance inside before ushering everyone through the entryway, his phaser ready and set to stun.

The moment they set foot in the building Jim knew that there was no living person present. Within its walls was no physical evidence, no smell, no visible trace of a fight – nothing – and the whole atmosphere managed to shower them with an impression of decay and old-ness that merely confirmed what he knew. Spread before them the floor was covered with dust and red tinged sand and stone in varying sizes. Surrounding walls in need of restoration produced large cracks reaching from floor to ceiling and when the door behind them shut with an audible click they were left in the dark, without even the emergency lights for basic orientation.

"When did they say was the last contact with the scientists?" Jim asked without daring to raise his voice. He felt like he was standing in a tomb and when a miniscule puff of air reached the naked skin on his neck he shuddered with a sudden dread, unable to pinpoint the exact reasoning behind his indisposition which had nothing to do with the unusual sensation of the heightened gravity.

"61 days, three hours," Spock answered with just the tiniest hint of disbelief and Jim knew that Spock – just like him – could see that either they had gotten an incorrect information or something was very, very wrong.

"Well," Bones muttered, slight subdued. "They weren't exactly a tidy bunch, if you ask me. Which you don't. So don't mind me creeping out… again. Anyone thought of bringing flashlights?"

There was a rustling sound and in the next moment a bright beam of light bathed the corridor in a whitish, almost painfully bright light. Quickly, Spock handed out more, one for each member of the party.

"I knew there was a reason to bring you," Jim joked and took a calming breath when the light of the other flashlights chased away most of the oppressing darkness in their immediate vicinity. He took a few steps and let the light glide over the walls, up and down the stairs and then into the darkness ahead of them. The brightness of the lamp was being swallowed after a few feet so they couldn't see the end of the first hallway.

"No splitting up. We have no means to communicate so stick together. Spock, you have our backs," he ordered quietly, but the words still sounded loud in his ears. The humming of the wind was now almost gone. Instead, Jim could have sworn that under the soles of his shoes he could feel the wind tearing at the house. Its immense powers testing the walls and trying to tear it down just by howling at it long enough. Rattling like the wolf trying to lure the little piggies out.

They had reached a junction with two sparse hallways branching off, one to the left and one to the right. No location marks on the wall. Just the bare concrete. There was no sign of life or technical facilities. Not even a light switch. Jim stopped in his tracks, stood still for a moment, searching his surroundings. The vibrations were now coming in waves and it seemed like he wasn't the only one noticing it. A soft rustling sounded to his right and he turned his flashlight quick enough to see some plastering come down in form of fine powder.

"So, how high is the probability for the house to fall down on us?" Bones asked loudly what they were all thinking.

"The structural integrity of the house should be sufficient…"

"Oh please, just don't say it," Bones hissed with an eye roll. "You only make things worse when you try to explain things that _should_ be."

"Shut up, both of you!" Jim suddenly said and squinted into the darkness that behind the reassuring light of his flashlight. "Did you hear that?"

They all stood still for a moment, not daring to move or even breathe. There was nothing but the very distant howling of the ever-going wind, the groaning and creaking of the building and the tiniest hiss of dust settling in the dark corners like snakes communicating in split tongues. Then they heard something else, just the wisp of a sound, more like the memory of one and then hell broke loose. A haunting wail rose in the distance, muffled first, before it echoed through the hallway like a train rushing through a tunnel. They could hear it coming closer and ducked when something swooshed over their heads and quickly sheered off, away from them. Its last remains were still ringing in their ears when they heard an unexpected voice coming from somewhere where the mysterious sound had vanished to. "Stop whining and bring me that screwdriver. Oh and the…" It stopped abruptly, like the broken connection of a communicator and the oppressing emptiness was back.

The away team slowly rose, looked at each other's face and without having to clarify they simultaneously moved towards the place where the voice had come from. Spock had gotten his tricorder out and hurriedly pushed buttons while walking.

"Anything?"

"No, Captain. Still no processable data. No detection of life sign either, not even ours."

"Well _that's_ comforting," Bones mumbled.

"What the tricorder was able to catch was a considerable increase of ionic dispersion."

"Which is what… exactly?" Jim asked without looking back, his breath coming in short gasps as he was not-so-lightly jogging while talking, following the dirty pool of light along the hallway. A few feet ahead they could see a passage to the right where the voice had probably come from.

"Radiation." The exclamation was a mere statement but ultimately followed by Jim's abrupt stopping in his tracks. The young Lieutenant next to Bones stumbled and was only able to catch himself when the doctor reached for his upper arm.

"Radiation?" Jim repeated and turned to face his second in command once more, the voice forgotten. "How much of it?" He shone the light on the floor in front of them as not to dazzle anyone as they gathered in a circle, faces creased in worried masks and gazes wandering between Jim and Spock.

"Not enough to warrant an immediate retreat but enough to be of concern if we are exposed for too long," Spock answered calmly.

"Define too long, Spock," Jim demanded to know.

"Assuming a constant radiation level as measured by the tricorder, our biological integrity would be affected after 51 minutes, depending on…"

"Ok," Jim interrupted. "But the radiation levels did merely hike for a few seconds here, right?"

"Indeed."

"Which means we do have more than 51 minutes?"

"Assuming that the spike was a nonrecurring or rare incident."

"Which of course it wasn't."

"Unlikely."

"Of course…" Jim sighed. "Here's what we do. I don't want anyone to spend more time here than necessary. No results, no regrets. Understood?" Lieutenant Forbes nodded a little shakily, Bones grimaced and looked like he rather would have been cleaning snot off the flu-infected, overweight Ensign Lewis and Spock managed to look like his stoic self.

"Yes, Captain," they said in unisono.

"Good, let's go." He was about to keep walking when something came to his mind. "Wait, why do you think the radiation readings were reliable when obviously nothing else on this planet is?"

Spock's eyebrow rose. "Valid point, captain. I calculated the probabilities and hypothesized the applicable physical characteristics of our given environment and came to a conclusion."

"So, you..." Jim tipped his head in a pondering motion and couldn't resist the sly grin. "... speculated."

"I..." The Vulcan opened his mouth to give a suitable reply but Jim waved it aside.

"Forget it Spock. Your speculation is my best guess anyway. I trust your assessment."

With these words he turned back and quickly closed the distance to the turnoff, which turned out to be a plain chamber with two panels, one on the right and one on the left side of the square room and about as large as the bridge on the Enterprise. Otherwise it was remarkably empty. No other exit besides the passage way they had walked through.

"Any idea where the voice had come from?" Jim asked and let his light wander over every inch of the room. No sign of a living being. No footprints on the dusty floor. No movement, no sound... almost. _Almost_ no sound.

"Can you..." Jim whispered before he was interrupted by a collective "Yes!"

It wasn't exactly the sound – no more than a whisper – which made their hairs stand quite literally. Jim could actually feel them rise on his head upwards like in zero gravity, while the heaviness in his limbs was momentarily neutralized and he felt lighter. His skin tingled, his fingers twitched and when his eyes found the large gap in space just above his head he had barely time to voice his surprise before it rained down on him like an avalanche from hell, accompanied by voices that had no source. Just a few tatters of sentences taken out of context, definitely expressed by human beings or at least humanoids who were speaking in earthly tongues.

"... calculation might be able to shed..." - "Hey, that was my..." - "Did you see... no. But I know I had it just..."

Jumbled nonsense. A distant memory of some stranger's lifetime bouncing into the present. He could hear a surprised gasp form Lieutenant Forbes next to him and saw Bones looking at him with eyes almost comically wide open being pulled away by Spock… then…

Nothing.

 

_Private Log, James T. Kirk. Stardate 2261.245_

_'I don't remember dying. No tunnel, no light, no cozy cloud to lie on. There was nothing. Just the hot glass on my temple and the pain. Then I woke up and had to face what was left of my ship, my friends and my life._ _Everything as I left it and yet...something is missing. Something I left behind in that reactor chamber. Something … fundamental. I'm not sure what but when I get it back I'll know it._

_Oh help me God, I really need a proper mission. One that doesn't involve dress uniform. Or a proper shot from one the bottles Bones keeps hidden in his office and thinks I don't know about it.'_

 

Leonard McCoy had many memories to choose from if he ever wanted to determine the Top Ten of the worst. The day he met his ex-wife definitely ranging in the upper third, shortly followed by the day he decided to spend his future in between cold metal and force fields in the vast realm of the outer space. But by far on top of the list was the moment he declared his best friend dead. The moment he had to utter the words that made it official. Real. Definite. The turning point in his career that probably would have ended the very same day if it weren't for the miracle that made it all right subsequently. The inconceivable that had brought back his squash buddy, his captain and his best friend. Something that McCoy knew was not something that happened every other day. Bringing back the dead wasn't something the 23rd century medicine had managed to achieve just yet and being a doctor Leonard was convinced dying _was_ the ultimate line that medical science would and should never cross. No matter how much the human race was maybe still aiming to reach for that particular Holy Grail. There was just some lines one didn't cross.

So when he did cross it for the one man he wasn't willing to give up on he knew it would be the one exception to the rule. Miracles were called miracles for a reason.

Ever since that day he knew that he wouldn't – _couldn't –_ go through this whole ordeal again.

And then... it happened again. Just like that. In one second Jim was standing next to him, in arms reach. If Spock – that bastard – hadn't taken his arm and pulled him away he would have been able to do something, to maybe just push Jim away. Because then – in the next second – he was just gone. A shimmering not-quite-light, bubbling like boiling mercury, hung in the air and engulfed Jim and the Lieutenant with little tendrils of pure white. Like a wrinkle in the air, a crack in reality. His eyes met Jim's for just a millisecond and he could see them widen in surprise. And just like this, both men were wiped away like chalk from a blackboard in a heartbeat and McCoy felt the very same stop for a moment. Stumbling first, then galloping like a racehorse.

There were two simultaneous clanks when two suddenly airborne flashlights fell to the floor and disintegrated into pieces, smashed beyond recognition. As if they had been lying there for eons, atom by atom torn by the sheer potency of time.

"No!" he yelled and stepped forward to the place where Jim had stood, the outlines of his shoes still painting a clear picture of reality. That Jim was gone. "What the hell!" He yelled. "What was that? What did just happen?" He turned to Spock who had let go of his arms. "Was that... were they transported? Where are they?"

"I'm not … sure," the Vulcan admitted and stared at his tricorder while shaking his head in a perplex manner that betrayed his usual calmness. "The readings..."

"Oh shut up about the damn readings and stop telling me how useless they are. I want to hear it from you. Where. Is. Jim?"

Spock let the device in his hand sink and had the decency to look less stoic than usual. Slowly, he kneeled down, touched the shattered pieces of the two abandoned flashlights, which crumbled under his touch and quickly pulled back his fingers, wiping them on his uniform.

"I have not enough information for a valid conclusion."

"I don't want your bloody conclusions, Spock, I want your thoughts. Come on! Theorize. Get creative. Speculate!"

"I can not..."

"Spock!" McCoy bellowed and saw with no little satisfaction how the Vulcan flinched slightly under his outburst. "This is Jim, we're talking about. Our friend. Our Captain! You're a science officer. Start using your Vulcan brain, not these..." Roughly, he took the tricorder and viciously hurled it through the room, where it bounced against a wall and shattered into pieces. "I don't care that there's no proof or measurable data. We need... "

Ignoring him, Spock was getting in motion, marching past him with a sudden purpose.

"What... what are you doing?"

"Looking for data!" He announced and stopped in front of one of the consoles that didn't look like it had any ounce of information to offer. With a reluctant pause he added: "Creatively."

McCoy watched him, shaking with anger and confusion. After a few unsuccessful attempts of bringing the device back to life Spock stared at it for a second before kneeling in front of it and with one rather forceful motion ripped off the cover panel, revealing the dusty bowels of the technical instruments.

 

~oOo~

 

It didn't hurt. Not even in the slightest. Just a mild tingling sensation like a mild electric shock that left his arms and legs numb and weak and his fingertips aching with little pricks of invisible needles.

"Ow..." someone moaned and it took him a moment to realize that it wasn't his own voice that had spoken.

Carefully he tried to open his eyes only to find out that his eyes _were_ wide open. Blinking repeatedly to remove the non-existent grit from his eyes – which proved unsuccessful – he looked around. He found himself in the same room he had just entered, sitting with his back pressed against a wall. Except, something was different.

Still, the grit in his eyes made them water but even though his vision was blurry he knew something was not how it should be. Maybe he had gotten a smack on the head or...

"Who turned on the lights?"

 _Oh yeah_ , he remembered. _Not the only one here._

"So you can see it, too, huh?" Jim groaned and heaved himself up leaning against the wall behind him. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah..." The Lieutenant answered grumpily and probably only just realized that he was still talking to his Captain. "Uh... Yes, Captain."

"Fine." He had reached a standing position and let his gaze wander over the familiar yet disturbingly different room. "Any idea what happened? Where are the others?"

"I don't know, Sir. They were right here."

"Well... not anymore."

He had lost his Tricorder. Not that it had been helpful in the first place but standing in that room with nothing but the clothes on him made him feel terribly naked and helpless. They had even lost the lights.

Momentarily stunned Jim realized that the room was bright as daylight with no source of light.

"The lights. Suspiciously bright for no flashlight, don't you think?" One glance into the long corridor affirmed his assumption as it was just as illuminated. Every little detail was visible, every nook, ever door, every door knob.

"What do you see?" Jim challenged and stepped back into the room.

The young Lieutenant wiped his hands over his eyes as if trying to clear them. A gesture Jim could relate to. Understanding flashed over the other man's face and Jim could literally see the moment of realization.

_Not in Kansas anymore, Toto._

There was no dirt on the floor, no cracks in the wall, no dark corners where dilapidation could claim its course. Everything looked sterile and untouched and without perceptible depth. Not real. With nervous apprehension Jim realized they didn't even create shadows.

"This is not the room we found in the first place," Lieutenant Forbes declared calmly and reached out his hand shaking hand to touch the buttons as if trying to see whether they were corporal.

"Either that or..."

"We're dead..." Lieutenant Forbes deadpanned and stumbled with a horror-stricken face against one of the panels.

Jim snorted, trying very hard not to laugh about the dramatic conclusion. "No, been there, done that. Believe me, we're not dead."

"Then..." Forbes swallowed hard. "... what is this? Where are Doctor McCoy and Commander Spock? Where have they gone?"

"Well, Lieutenant Forbes..." Jim frowned and met the other man's eyes before adding. "I'm pretty sure _we_ are the ones who have gone."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Dear whoever finds his/her way to this particular chapter: I'd love to hear from hear from you. Just a word. Or two. Maybe some Haiku. I'm not picky.
> 
> Thank you so much, person_with_a_cool_name for your input. It's very much appreciated!
> 
> Disclaimer: see first chapter.

 

_You're a ghost now_

_You're every dream I lost, somehow_

_Scream out loud but my voice can't make a sound_

_I saw an angel and she told me to go home_

_The ghost in the machine, is all that we know_

_She showed me how to bleed_

_Tears up the best in me_

_I saw an angel_

_But I woke up alone again_

_\---_

_Ashes to Angels – Ghost in the Machine_

 

Chapter 4

_Private Log Isaak Forbes; Stardate 2261.156_

_This is my first entry and … I'm a little nervous. I…_ _God, this is like talking to a woman on a first date._ _Okay, to make this whole thing official: I am Isaak Forbes and I just got here. On the Enterprise, I mean. I have to admit I'm a little overwhelmed. I mean, the USS Liwei was a great ship and all but come on… Walker class. You could yell on the bridge and if the elevator doors were open you could hear it down in the machine section. And I'm pretty sure they tampered with the food synthesizer. Everything tasted like fish. Anyway, I'm here now. On the Enterprise. Isn't it amazing? I mean… I'm really happy to be here. Though I'm afraid I already managed my first faux pas with Commander Conrad, the chief of security. Distances on the Enterprise surprisingly vary from those on the USS Liwei. Stupid me. Anyway. Managed to not get killed on my first assignment. Admittedly, the container with medical equipment wasn't exactly high security but I guess the Doctor would have killed me anyway if I had let someone as much as sneeze on it. I have yet to meet the Captain. I've heard he's pretty decent guy. Pft, who am I kidding. He's Captain James T. Kirk. Hard to believe he's four years younger than me. Which does not mean I'm getting old. It's such an honor to be a part of his crew… and I undoubtedly will trip over my own feet when I'm in his presence and make a total fool out of myself… Ack, so what? Wouldn't be the first time. Oh God, this really is like a first date with a woman. I just can't stop blabbering. Gotta go._

 

All things considered, they were having the time of their lives, Jim pondered. Inevitably, the thought was crushed by the immense urge to punch something. With an angry shout his fist crashed against the nearest wall but the expected satisfaction failed to set in. A fact that didn't surprise him as it wasn't the first time his frustration made itself known in an equally expected burst of violence.

If someone had told him that one day he'd miss the sensation of pain he'd have him consider crazy. But now…

The punch should have been powerful enough to break skin and even bones and leave a visible evidence of vandalism on the wall. Be it by peeling paint or traces of blood. But even that was being denied to them on this God forsaken planet.

Though, Jim was quite sure he wasn't even _on_ the planet, per se. Or on _any_ planet at all. They just _were._ In their own little universe. Just two people, meandering through a dead scenario of non-existence and exanimation.

"At least being dead wasn't that god damn BORING!" Jim yelled at no one in particular. Even his scream was muffled and he combed through his hair viciously, glad to be alone for the moment.

They had searched the whole building a dozen times and Jim wasn't quite sure how he felt about the fact that he didn't find a single door to be locked. Everything gave the impression of a cheap stage with props that didn't work. No blinking lights, no instructions.

Time, as they had learned during their stay in this nightmare, was of now consequences. Neither were meteorological influences, laws of physics or even biological necessities such as the need to drink or eat or even pee. The sky they could see through the few windows never changed. No fluctuation of light, no cloud, no visible stars. No wind was howling around them and the tremors of the building that they had felt before were gone.

They had been through this, over and over, while time was stretching like a highway on a hot day in Iowa. They were caught in a never-ending loop of nothingness.

"Captain!" He turned, facing the young Lieutenant he had sent away to check the surrounding area outside the facility – again.

"Anything?" Jim asked and knew the answer before it was spoken out loud.

"No, Sir," the other man said. "Just like expected."

"So you mean you expected to be the only living being within the radius of about a trillion light years?"

"When you put it that way, captain..."

Jim sighed, strangely annoyed by the young man whose only crime had been to be chosen for a mission that backfired spectacularly. Seriously, what _had_ he expected? When it came to mission, nothing ever went according to plan.

"What exactly are you doing here, anyway?" He asked and sat down on the floor, leaning his back against the wall.

They had come to the arrangement to always get back to their consented point of origin: the room they had vanished into. So whenever they went out to search for … whatever it was they hoped to find they came back to this meeting point.

"Uh... what do you mean, Sir? I'm here because we concluded on not separating for too long. I thought..."

"In space!" Jim corrected with a sigh. "Why did you come to Starfleet?"

The second Jim said the words out loud he realized how negative they must have sounded and he regretted the question when he saw the way the young lieutenants face fell at the underlying rebuff.

"I..." Again with the stuttering and... seriously... how hard could it be to get a straight answer from the young man?

"Look, Toto." His counterpart was about to insist on his name but Jim waved him aside. "I'm just trying to start a conversation here and that's really hard to do considering your level of awkwardness."

"I wasn't aware of that, Captain. "

"Stop that. Stop captain'ing me."

"But..." The Lieutenant's eyes widened. "You _are_ my Captain."

"So? Who cares? There's no one here to court martial you for speaking your mind. So relax!" Jim replied nonchalantly and smirked. "So, now... what's your MO? What's your deal?" And yet another confused grimace from the other man that made Jim sigh in exasperated annoyance. "You're worse than Spock, you know that?"

"Sorry, Sir."

It was useless. Jim would die here. If it weren't for exposure or thirst or radiation it surely would be exasperation that drove him over the edge.

"Forget it, Toto."

An uncomfortable silence settled over them and a few times the young man tried to say something but his attempts never surpassed the silent opening and closing of his mouth.

"My grandfather," Forbes almost whispered after a while and it took Jim a few seconds to remember the context.

"Your grandfather? I don't remember reading about him in your file."

"You read my personal file?" Forbes asked slightly taken aback.

"Well yes, I _am_ your Captain, remember? And even though my careless reputation might say otherwise I'm picky when it comes to the decision who I'm letting on my ship, especially long-term." The explanation was accompanied by a cheeky grin that caused Forbes to blush.

"I didn't... I wasn't..."

"Let's skip your excessive need to apologize and fast-forward to the story of your life."

Forbes settled down on the other side of the room, sliding down the wall and adjusting his back so he could sit comfortably. "My grandfather..." he began and intently stared at his feet. "... died before I was born."

"He must've been one hell of a guy to have such an impact on you," Jim observed, his tone serious and honest.

"He was." Forbes replied and lifted his head to look at him, one of his eyes shining with a hint of pride and affection, the other one hidden behind the obnoxious curl that Jim had every intention of addressing at one point of their stay. "My father used to tell me stories about him. He was pretty smart and... cunning... as my father put it. But... in a nice way, you know?"

Jim nodded, hoping his silence was motivation enough for the Lieutenant to continue.

"When he was four he re-programmed his parent's house system so they couldn't leave it for three days."

"Yeah, I can see how smart that was," Jim joked, prompting the other man to chuckle.

"Oh, you misunderstand," Forbes grinned. "It was Christmas and he didn't want his father to leave the house over the holidays. They had to bribe him with his own PADD to get him to undo the changes."

Startled, Jim snickered. "I would have liked your grandfather."

"Yeah... probably..." He trailed off, now considerably troubled again.

"What happened?" Jim asked, hoping to sound casual but he knew from the pained expression in the other man's face that the answer wouldn't be a joyful one.

"He died in 2233..." a pregnant pause."On the USS Kelvin."

Jim felt his stomach tighten at the revelation and stared at the other man. He definitely had not expected that.

"He died?" Jim repeated dumbfoundedly.

"Yes, he died during the attack of the Narada." Forbes shrugged and managed a half-smile, probably hoping to lighten the mood a little. "He was then chief of mechanics and responsible for the evacuation of the machine room which had suffered greatly after the first impacts but he... never made it out himself."

"I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"Of course you didn't," Forbes replied with just a hint of bitterness. "It wasn't a heroic death such as your father's. According to a friend he fell and hit his head."

"That's not true." It took some effort to keep his words steady. "It's what you do in your life that makes you a hero, not your death." 

Silence settled between them while both men were lost in their own thoughts - until Forbes looked up and Jim could feel his eyes on him.

"I requested the transfer to work under your command. Twice." At this, Jim looked up and their eyes met.

"Why?"

"Definitely not for the good looks..." Forbes grinned sheepishly and for a moment Jim considered getting angry but the mischievous glint in the Lieutenant's eyes broke something within him he thought he had lost. He burst into laughter that made his eyes water. Finally he was getting a few glimpes of the real Forbes.

"You're hurting my feelings, Toto."

"I wanted _this_ from life." With a sweeping motion Forbes gestured around him causing Jim to huff in amused disbelief.

"You wanted to get lost on a planet in between realities and stuck with your captain?"

"Well, no. Not exactly. But... I'm not even sure what I expected. Maybe my own version of being a hero. Saving kittens and getting the girl. Maybe some adventures in between."

"And? Did you get the girl?" Jim grinned, bending his legs to rest his forearms on his knees.

"Working on it." Forbes answered, his eyes staring in the distance as if he was seeing her in front of him.

"That's the spirit, Toto," Jim said and nodded, somehow getting the impression of having learned much more about the young man during the last ten minutes than from his 100 pages thick personal file.

"Captain?" Forbes asked after a short while and his careful facial expression was back in place. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure. It's not like I have anything else to do right now."

"Who the hell is Toto?"

Jim snorted. "What planet are you from? Never heard of The Wizard of Oz?" At the Lieutenant's shaking of the head Jim rolled his eyes. "Toto is the loyal and eager companion of little Dorothy, who seeks out the Evil Witch of the West to put an end to her wrong-doings. Oh, and he's a dog."

"So," Forbes ponders. "If I'm Toto, the loyal dog, does that make you Dorothy?" 

Their laughter rang out dull and hollow. But it was a good feeling anyway.

 

~oOo~

 

_Private Log Commander Spock, Stardate 2259.52, 2200 hours_

_The captain will live. Khan should not._

 

The room was swathed in dust and debris and McCoy kept his mouth and nose pressed against the crook of his arms to avoid breathing in too much of the contaminated air. He had approached the driven Vulcan twice before but had been annoyingly ignored. Sure, he had wanted the First Officer to do something but that hadn't meant that he wanted to be left out of the loop in the progress to twirl his thumbs and sit on his bored backside. He had thought about leaving the room to inspect the immediate area. But as if reading his minds Spock had coolly ordered him to "Please stay where you are, Doctor. I'm unwilling to lose you too."

McCoy did bite his tongue, suppressing the urge to tell Spock that a) he was not a piece of tool that could be lost somewhere and b) he was a doctor, goddammit! Doctors helped people. Sure, people had to be present to enjoy his professional assistance but that was a minor detail that really – by all means – shouldn't be that hard to accomplish, now should it? Plus – and he had to admit that in the most begrudging way possible – Spock was right.

"Did you... ?"

He started again and wasn't surprised when he was interrupted briskly by the Vulcan who didn't stall his efforts to comb through the technical equipment to find something that would explain their dire situation. "Doctor McCoy, I would be deeply grateful if you did not ask me questions that you are surely aware I have no answers to. Not yet. Trust me. As soon as I have answers you will be the first to know."

It wasn't like he didn't trust that Vulcan bastard. It was just... well... he didn't. The Vulcan had his back turned towards him so that McCoy was unable to see exactly what he was doing. The sounds were enough to tell him that he wasn't exactly gentle in his attempts to disentangle the circuit boards and cables and other blinking gizmos that no doubt filled the console. Suddenly, a crackling noise caused the Vulcan to pull back his hands accompanied by a pained hiss and a very un-Vulcan curse.

"Spock?" Hopeful, McCoy stood up and quickly walked over, kneeling next to his friend who was holding a PADD-like device in his hands which consisted of a small screen and frantically blinking lights.

"It's working!" McCoy declared with surprise. "You did it!"

"It's malfunctioning."

"Still better than _not_ working," McCoy uttered stubbornly. "So, what is it?"

"My assumption is the console functioned as a surveillance system. If I can get this device to display the established security and system nodes we might be able to find the control center. I am optimistic it will give us more information about what happened."

"You're optimistic?" McCoy echoed incredulously. "That is something I never thought I'd hear from you."

The tiny screen in Spock's hands came alive and for a few seconds a long list of cryptic codes flickered in a pale green font from top to bottom. Repeatedly, disruptions caused the output lines to jump sideways so that most of the gibberish was unreadable but the intent concentration Spock exhibited by staring at it without even blinking told McCoy not to disturb him.

"I know where we must go," The Vulcan finally exclaimed and before even having finished the sentence he had leaped up and stormed to the exit, possessing a purposeful stride that had McCoy optimistic that he actually knew what he was doing.

"Where are we going?"

"If I am correct the central unit containing the main control center is located on the third floor. On the left outer wing."

"Main control over what?"

"That is something I have to validate before I draw my conclusion."

Indeed, it did look as if Spock knew where he was going as he turned right and followed the hallway about ten yards before approaching a nondescript door that led to another staircase with narrow steps. With the Vulcan leading and taking three steps at once, McCoy had to struggle to keep up with him yet managed to stumble into him when his forerunner suddenly halted.

"What…"

"Shh…"

"Don't shh me, Spock! That's..." Before he could finish the sentence, he felt himself being pushed backwards with no little force, stumbling helplessly while trying to find the handrail to stop his fall. For a few moments he was sailing through the air before hitting the wall at the previous landing. Losing the grip on his flashlight, he let it fall and with loud clunk it rolled down the stairs. The abandoned ray of light forming a dirty puddle of white on the concrete before it flickered and died. Now the only source of light was being manned by the Vulcan.

"What the hell, Spock!" McCoy admonished when he heard that sound again. That sizzling, whining tone announcing another one of those events that cost them Jim and the Lieutenant and McCoy pressed his body against the flat surface in his back, following the abnormality's path with eyes wide open and a sharp intake of breath. Instead of rushing by it ate its way downwards with an almost lazy slowness, crackling and fizzling away, tiny little arms of bright light waving like little worms. McCoy could hear it reach the handrail where his hands had been only moments before and the material disintegrated before his very eyes. A morbid fascination made him watch the drama unfold and when he realized what was about to happen he glanced upwards to Spock who was still standing on the upper landing.

The handrail was gone and so were half of the steps leading up as well as down, the integrity of the flights crumbling and effectively cutting off both his escape routes.

"You've got to be kidding me!" McCoy blurted out, staring at the hole in front of him getting larger.

"You have to jump. Now!" Spock ordered and McCoy repeated "You've _got_ to be kidding me!" His disbelieving eyes now turned to the Vulcan. Jumping? His legs refused to bend, let alone jump.

"Doctor, I assure you..."

The ground beneath his feet was shaking and he knew he only had a few fleeting moments before he would follow the porose cement, the heightened gravity pulling everything downwards with relentless obstinacy.

"Oh for the love of..."

Not thinking about the various outcomes that displayed in his mind in all its gory details he took a large step, hoping the meagre remains of the flight would hold his additional weight for just the second it would take him to jump up and join the Vulcan on safe ground.

Of course they didn't.

Under his left foot the stair was gone the second he put weight on it and he fell, his insides doing their best to crawl out of his throat in the millisecond he was hanging in midair. Until a strong hand gripped his right arm and held tight enough that a pained gasp left his mouth. That would leave a mark, he thought before he came to the conclusion that a bruised arm would definitely be preferable to a broken backbone.

His torso crashed against the upper steps with his legs flailing wildly, trying to reach stable ground but the more he moved the more the ground crumbled and he found himself coughing as the erratic movement caused sand and debris to fly up and engulf him in a cloud of dust. A second hand clasped around his arm and with teary eyes he looked up into the strained grimace of Spock who was pulling him up - painful inch by inch - until they were both on the floor next to each other, Spock sitting with his back against the door leading to the hallway and McCoy lying on his stomach with his stomach pressed against the dirty landing and his feet still sticking over the brink.

"Remind me…" he wheezed. "… to thank you…" Painful coughing. "…when I have my lungs back."

"You're welcome, Doctor," Spock replied and stood up. "We should leave the immediate danger zone."

"This whole planet is a danger zone."

"You won't hear me object."

With one last glance to the broken skeleton of what had once been a staircase McCoy followed Spock into the adjoining hallway, having to jog to keep up with the Vulcan who already had a headstart of a few meters and was now the only one with a flashlight. A confusing amount of doors and short corridors later they found themselves in front of a closed door with glass windows through which Spock let the beam of the flashlight wander over numerous panels and technical equipment.

"This must be it," he announced and gripped the door handle.

"Locked," he spoke the obvious and took a step back before violently kicking his leg against the space where both door wings met. It sprang open without further ado. It was the one good thing one could say about this rotten place: no door would hold them now.


End file.
